


chinese lanterns (transatlanticism)

by bad_news (bastille), bastille



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Blanket Fic, Death Cab for Cutie, M/M, Pining, Transatlanticism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-01
Updated: 2012-12-01
Packaged: 2017-11-20 00:45:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/579442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bastille/pseuds/bad_news, https://archiveofourown.org/users/bastille/pseuds/bastille
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes he wonders what it would all be like if he had never been in One Direction, if he had never tried out for the X-Factor, if he had never met Harry at all.  He wonders whether if there would still be a feeling  in his chest that felt corrosive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	chinese lanterns (transatlanticism)

_chinese lanterns_   ( _transatlanticism_ )

  _a Larry Stylinson fanfiction_

 

  [](http://theliesofeden.tumblr.com/post/36974475839/transatlanticism-i-need-you-so-much-closer-a-larry-styli)

 

It’s started to fray.  There are little patches worn through and if he holds it up to a window, the light shines through like light through a Chinese lantern.

Theres even one little hole in the corner, just big enough for his pinky to fit through.

Louis pretends that isn’t there.

 

It doesn’t smell like Harry anymore, like it did after that weekend they spent apart from each other when they stole each other’s blankets and didn’t put them down the entire time.  A strange and almost heady collaboration of cologne, sweat, and warmth.  He still presses his face into it like it does, though, and if he’s crying hard enough, he can imagine it’s still there.

Sometimes, when there’s rage crackling like dry lightning in his veins, he thinks he should set it on fire.  Ball it up and fling it away from him like a disease he doesn’t want to catch.

But that sickness clings to him and the fever sweats itself out in every tear shed, every touch stolen and every stone faced lie.

Sometimes he wonders what it would all be like if he had never been in One Direction, if he had never tried out for the X-Factor, if he had never met Harry at all.  He wonders whether if there would still be a feeling  in his chest that felt corrosive.  But then he thinks about all the nights that would be spent without his curls, the rumbling timbre of his voice in his ear, and his warmth by his side and he banishes the notion.

It wouldn’t matter if he were in One Direction, if he were still in Doncaster, or if he were in deepest hell.  Taking Harry away from him would be like dividing any number by zero.  It would take everything away.  
  
And he would be left with nothing.

**Author's Note:**

> I've created a fanmix to wash this fic down! Find it and reblog it __[here](http://theliesofeden.tumblr.com/post/36974475839/transatlanticism-i-need-you-so-much-closer-a-larry-styli)__. All feedback is _greatly_ appreciated.


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